


F**k Buddies

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal, Anal Beads, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottoming from the Top, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, French Kissing, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Oral Sex, Past!Klaine, Rutting, Sex, Sexual Content, Shower Sex, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-18 04:30:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1415191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt is in a rut - alone and on his own in New York, craving human contact, but always somehow finding himself climbing back into his ex-boyfriend's bed. He doesn't necessarily need a relationship, just a good lay every once in a while. Along comes Sebastian Smythe with an offer Kurt just can't seem to refuse. (Inspired by a tumblr anon prompt 'f**k buddies')</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"If you want to go home with that hand, you'll take it the fuck off my ass!" Kurt hisses through clenched teeth, not even turning to stare down the offending asshole currently palming his left cheek.

"Aww, come on," the faceless cloud of vodka-infused breath whispers, "you're so tense. Why don't you come with me to the bathroom and we'll loosen you up."

Kurt's head lolls on his shoulders as he turns his neck to at least get a good look at the man whose face he will most likely be describing to a police sketch artist later that night. Kurt's eyes cross as he tries to bring the man into focus, but when he does, he barks out a laugh, his voice hoarse from one too many shots of Cuervo Gold Especial. Sky-high mousy brown hair with a pasty complexion, but worst of all he's wearing a grey flannel vest over a black button down shirt. This man bears such a striking resemblance to Kurt's old glee club instructor Will Schuester that in another life he could very well have been Will's son…which makes the unwelcome come-ons just that much more revolting.

Kurt deliberates, debating whether a few lewd innuendos and a squeezed cheek are good enough reasons to waste a shot of good tequila straight to the man's face.

The man leans in closer, uncomfortably closer, apparently at the ready with more cheesy pick-up lines when another voice, smooth as satin and much more sober than either one of them, weighs in on the conversation.

"You don't listen too well, do you, Jesse," the voice says. "The man said no."

 _Jesse_ , Kurt thinks. _The annoying handsy-man's name is Jesse. Best to imprint it on my brain for later 9-1-1 calls._

"I don't think it's any of your business, Sebastian," Jesse snarls at the man standing behind Kurt, the owner of the sexy voice who came to his rescue. "In fact, we were just about to head out of this clap-trap, weren't we…uh…"

Jesse gestures at Kurt, trying to get Kurt to give up his name, but Kurt just watches Jesse's hand flop around in the air in front of him like a dying fish. The swaying motion starts to make Kurt nauseous. He lurches forward off the bar stool, momentum trying to carry him the rest of the way to the floor, but a pair of strong arms grab his elbows and keep him upright.

"Alright, sunshine," Sebastian's voice says soothingly, "why don't we get you to the bathroom before you lose your dinner here on Jesse's shoes?"

Jesse steps in front of them, tapping his toe in frustration.

"Oh, so you're just going to steal him away for yourself?" Jesse gripes, crossing his arms over his chest like a spoiled three-year-old.

Sebastian sighs.

"On second thought…"

Sebastian pauses, waiting for Kurt to throw a name his way, and Kurt does, because where Jesse looks like he could be a convicted molester, Sebastian's voice makes Kurt feel oddly safe.

"Kurt…" Kurt mutters. Kurt tries to force his body to stay upright on its own, but his body gives him a healthy 'fuck you' and stays limp in Sebastian's grasp.

"On second thought, Kurt," Sebastian repeats (Kurt can hear the smile in his voice, and he imagines it must be an incredible smile), "why don't you go ahead and puke on Jesse's shoes, since he's so fucking hell bent on blocking our way."

"I…I'm not too sure it wouldn't be an im-improvement," Kurt stutters, belching uncontrollably for good measure. Jesse gasps and mutters something impolite and mostly unintelligible, but Sebastian's warm, throaty laugh makes up for it. He maneuvers poor Kurt around a stunned and repulsed Jesse, who mumbles, "I hope he throws up all over your cock," while Sebastian leads a wobbly Kurt away.

"Well, that was unpleasant," Sebastian comments, steering Kurt to the cleanest toilet in the restroom. He shoves him gently between the shoulders and closes the stall door behind him.

"Have at it, governor," Sebastian commands, and for whatever reason that's enough to start the flood of vomit that empties from Kurt's stomach with such a vile and disgusting noise that three men open the bathroom door, but turn tail and leave without answering their call from nature. Sebastian laughs and shakes his head in disbelief when five minutes goes by and it seems like Kurt is never going to stop throwing up.

"Wow," Sebastian says, "do you usually suck this bad at holding down your tequila?"

"Fuck you," Kurt manages as the vomiting turns into dry heaves. "I had a really bad day."

"So you decided to drink your dinner?"

Sebastian rips some paper towels from the dispenser by the sink and soaks them with cool water. He hands them over the stall wall to Kurt who takes them with a shaking hand, using the other to balance against the opposite wall.

"Thanks," Kurt mutters, his throat having gone from slightly hoarse to burning with the unholy fire of hell. "You can kind of say that."

"Well, I can also say you're stupid as fuck," Sebastian observes.

"What? For drinking too much?" Kurt's words slur and do nothing to hide his resentment. "Yeah, I'm the only person in the world who's ever done that." Kurt bursts through the stall door a little harder than he intends and stumbles to the sink to get a look at himself in the mirror, mostly to make sure that he didn't manage to vomit on his sapphire blue Marc Jacobs dress shirt.

"No, not for drinking too much, princess. For drinking alone," Sebastian clarifies. He wets another paper towel and carefully holds this one to Kurt's forehead while Kurt leans his head over the sink, the cool against his heated skin helping him to think straight. "You have fresh meat written all over you, and I know that Jesse wants to mount you to his wall."

"How do you know?" Kurt hiccups. "Have you ever been mounted by Jesse?"

Sebastian snickers, turning the paper towel over to keep Kurt's forehead cool.

"No, but I know the look. And he wasn't the only man out there who had it."

Kurt peeks up into the bathroom mirror to see if Sebastian has that look, too, and gets a good look at the man who's been taking care of him. The first thing Kurt notices – the first thing Kurt ever notices – is how a man dresses…and this man dresses well. In contrast to Jesse's 'choir teacher chic', Sebastian is wearing a Burberry cashmere peacoat over a simple grey tee and immaculate black skinny jeans, all clinging to a body that screams, "Touch me. I work out." Kurt breathes in deep, trying to clear his head, and catches a whiff of Sebastian's cologne. He smells clean and fresh, like earth after a spring rain. Kurt chances a glimpse at Sebastian's face and sees two green eyes – deep and clear, like blown glass out of the fire in that second when it's still full of heat before it's doused in water – staring down at him. Perfect pink lips twist into a grin that's smug and judging, but in a playful way; and if Sebastian isn't blessed enough, he has a head of chocolate colored hair that Kurt has an overwhelming urge to grab by the handful to see if it's as silky as it looks.

 _Jesus fucking Christ!_ Kurt thinks, as the urge to sink into the floor and disappear comes over him. _This insanely handsome man just got the privilege of listening to me puke for the last five minutes._

"So, are you going to tell me why a sexy man like yourself is swimming in a bottle of tequila alone on a Tuesday night?" Sebastian asks, tossing the wet paper towel away and handing Kurt a dry one. Kurt takes it with a terse, "Thanks", and hurries to catch the drips that are falling around his cheeks.

"I kind of don't want to tell you," Kurt grumbles into the mirror so he doesn't have to face the fire of Sebastian's eyes directly.

"And why is that?" Sebastian asks, jutting out his lip and pouting. "I thought we were becoming so close."

Kurt smiles involuntarily, and his entire face hurts.

"Because it's cliché and tired, and you've probably heard it a hundred times before."

"Well, why don't you make it a hundred and one." Sebastian leans a hip against the wall and waits patiently.

Kurt turns to look at Sebastian, not backing down from the challenging gleam in his eye.

"It's my ex-boyfriend," Kurt starts, happily impressed when that doesn't automatically elicit a dramatic eye roll or an exaggerated sigh from Sebastian. "He moved out to New York to try and get back together with me. I've told him over and over that I'm not interested, but he doesn't seem to get the hint. And he comes up with all these campy little anniversaries for nonsense shit, like the first time we ever held hands or the first time we ever saw _It's a Wonderful Life_. So he calls me up and invites me out to celebrate these inane milestones of his, but it's really just an attempt to get me drunk and into bed, because he knows I'm sentimental and he thinks that every time he can get into my pants it's just one step closer to me taking his ass back."

Sebastian's smirk starts to fade a touch around the edges, but his eyes…those eyes are still so dangerous it's hard for Kurt to keep looking into them.

"And how often does that work?" Sebastian asks.

Kurt sighs, humiliation seeping out of every tired muscle and defeated bone in his body.

"Every…single…fucking…time…"

Sebastian nods, and there's something in the way his jaw tightens that makes Kurt think that maybe he knows what Kurt's going through.

"So why do you fall for it then?" Sebastian asks. His voice loses some of its playful quality. It sounds softer, more compassionate than Kurt had expected.

"Because I'm lonely," Kurt answers quietly, inexplicably unafraid to bare his wounded soul out before this man, even if he is a stranger…probably _because_ he's a stranger. "You know, all the reasons any pathetic single person has for constantly going back to something toxic. Because I crave human contact. Because it's there…because it's familiar…because it's a sure thing."

Sebastian pushes off the wall and walks towards Kurt, looking him over, eyes roaming over his slouched form. Kurt's eyelids narrow, and his blue eyes follow Sebastian a bit warily, slightly unnerved by the change in Sebastian's attitude.

"What?" Kurt asks defensively when Sebastian's thoughtful smile turns into a wolfish grin.

"I think I may have a proposition for you," Sebastian says. "Something that might help keep you out of your ex's bed."

Kurt rounds on Sebastian who had stopped a few feet away to check out the view of Kurt from behind.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asks. "Keep me out of my ex's bed?"

"Well, do you want to keep pity-fucking your ex? Or would you like to try someone new?"

Kurt shakes his head slowly, still thoroughly confused, even though the fog of alcohol has started to lift.

"Look, princess, let's just say I know how you feel." Sebastian looks down at his shoes while he gathers his thoughts. "I know what it's like to need someone to touch, someone to touch you back. I'm currently between asses myself, and yours is pretty damn hot." Sebastian gives Kurt another good long look, but unlike Jesse's lecherous, unwanted stares, the way Sebastian's eyes rake up and down Kurt's body makes Kurt want to strip for him slowly to give him a better view. "How about I violate yours for a while?"

Kurt chuckles when Sebastian finishes, rolling his eyes, but soon he notices he's the only one laughing.

"Wait…you're serious?"

"Very," Sebastian affirms, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And why would a man as…" Kurt fumbles for a word, thinking of every adjective he could possibly apply to Sebastian, and still coming up short. "Why would a man like you want to make an arrangement like this…with me?"

Kurt winces at how self-depreciating he sounds when he should really just be thanking all sorts of make-believe deities that this man wants to have sex with him at all.

"Actually, you'd be doing me a big favor," Sebastian says. "Frankly I'm getting a little tired of trolling bars and picking up random men. And I'm not looking for a relationship right now. So, having a scheduled playdate with another healthy, hot, like-minded individual would work out great for me."

Kurt listens intently. It sounds way too good to be true, which immediately makes Kurt suspicious.

"And how exactly would this work?"

"We'll meet here every Tuesday and Thursday night at six p.m. after I get off of work, and head over to my penthouse. We'll do the deed, and you can be home before nine…or midnight? Depending on how things go, I guess." Sebastian wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"Why your place?" Kurt gives Sebastian a sidelong look, still not quite convinced that this is a good idea.

"Because my office is literally five minutes away from my place," Sebastian says. "And by the way, I don't do overnight guests."

Kurt crosses his arms and huffs.

_Figures I get to be the one to do the walk of shame every Tuesday and Thursday night._

Kurt considers everything Sebastian's said, trying to find the hidden loophole in his plan; the thing that's going to truly fuck Kurt in the ass.

"So, we do this until when?" Kurt asks.

"Until we don't want to anymore," Sebastian says with a shrug.

"You mean, like if one of us gets a boyfriend?"

"That's a matter of personal preference," Sebastian says with a wink. "Or until you start having feelings for me."

Kurt laughs out loud this time.

"Until _I_ start having feelings for _you_?" he barks. "Because there's absolutely no chance of you developing feelings for me?"

"I don't get attached to people, babe," Sebastian says, his voice suddenly hollow and flat. "That's how I survive."

Sebastian sounds so sad, like he's already given up on something he hasn't even given a chance; it throws Kurt a little off his guard. He doesn't like this sound in Sebastian's voice.

"So, you want to be my 'fuck buddy'?" Kurt says with a healthy dose of contempt in his voice, something he hopes will bring back Sebastian's snarky attitude.

"In essence."

Kurt scrunches his nose and shakes his head.

"I hate that term though."

Sebastian sighs and looks up to the ceiling.

"Okay, how about friends with benefits?"

"Why?" Kurt smirks. "Are you offering me dental? Medical? Maternity leave?"

Kurt's lips form an unexpected 'o' of surprise at his own comment, and Sebastian laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling adorably…at least adorably to Kurt.

"Look," Sebastian says, trying to calm his laughter, "call it whatever you want, princess."

Kurt thinks for a second, but the pounding that's starting in his head erases every other thought.

"I'll think of something appropriate later." Kurt waves his hand in front of his face dismissively.

"So, is that a yes?" Sebastian asks, holding out a hand to Kurt, waiting for Kurt to shake it.

Kurt looks at Sebastian's hand, biting his lip, trying not to seem too eager. Yes, this is kind of a cold comfort relationship – except not a relationship, as Sebastian was so quick to point out he's not looking for one, but it would fulfill a lot of Kurt's needs as well. He needs to find a quick fix, a way to keep the edge off so he's not waking up drunk beside Blaine two or three times a month; and as far as quick fixes go, he could do a lot worse than Sebastian.

Besides, if Kurt is being completely honest with himself, Sebastian looks like he'd be an amazing fuck.

"Okay," Kurt agrees, taking Sebastian's hand and shaking it. "You have a deal. Where do we begin?"

"We begin by making sure we're both on the up and up," Sebastian says, keeping a tight hold to Kurt's hand and leading him out of the bathroom. "That means you and I get a clean bill of health and meet back here in two weeks. Oh, and no sex outside of _us_ without informing the other. It's not necessarily a deal breaker, but I would like to know where you're sticking your wick if you're going to be with me."

Kurt nods, not really wanting to answer out loud as the crowd in the bar has thinned considerably and many of the remaining patrons are watching them, listening to their conversation as they make their way to the front door.

Sebastian leads Kurt out the door and into the chill night air, all the way to the curb. He leans over the edge and whistles for a taxi.

"Where are we going?" Kurt asks as the taxi pulls up, startled that Sebastian can actually get a taxi so quickly when Kurt usually tends to wave his arms over his head frantically for half an hour before giving up and walking to the subway.

"Not we… _you_." Sebastian opens the taxi door and helps Kurt inside. "Right now, I'm sending your sick ass home. Drink some water. Get some rest. I want you healthy and sober the next time I see you."

Sebastian reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. To the cab driver he hands a gold credit card, which the man looks over appreciatively before swiping it through the reader and handing it back to Sebastian. To Kurt, Sebastian hands a business card printed on heavy, black cardstock. Embossed on the front in white is the name 'Smythe' and a series of phone numbers and email addresses.

"Now, that's all my contact info. If you're feeling like doing something stupid again like drinking yourself sick or sleeping with your ex, you give me a call and we'll work something out." Sebastian leans in quickly and kisses Kurt on the forehead, much in the same way a father would peck their kid on the head before school. "But please let's try and be a big boy and not get into too much trouble. Okay, princess?"

Sebastian shuts the door before Kurt can have his say, and smacks a hand down on the roof to let the cab driver know he's good to go.

"So, where are we going?" the cabbie asks Kurt.

"Uh…Bushwick," Kurt stutters. He turns, expecting to see Sebastian walk back into the bar to proposition another man perhaps, but he hails another cab, gets inside and heads off in the opposite direction. Kurt's cab speeds away and he starts to feel nauseous all over again. He looks down at the business card in his hand, reads the many numbers over and over until he has some of them memorized. He thinks over the whole night, and every word Sebastian said, and how it all made sense as long as he was looking into Sebastian deep emerald eyes. But now, sitting in the back of a taxi on the way home to dry out before starting a purely sexual 'arrangement' with a gorgeous man, all he can wonder is what exactly did he just agree to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At frickin' last!! I'm so sorry this took forever, but this story has a long, sordid tale behind it. When I first posted this story, I got bullied by some anonymous jerk with too much time on their hands, which put me off uploading the rest. The story is written in its entirety in a spiral notebook which I shoved away out of anger. Then when I decided to let it go and put the story up, the notebook disappeared. I found out later that my son had accidentally taken it to school with him (he was in the fifth grade). Luckily, no one used it, and no therapy was necessary. So, I will get this updated more regularly from now on, and I hope you guys like it because I think it's really touching toward the end ;)
> 
> Thank you all for your patience.

Kurt hates the free clinic. Actually, loathes with every fiber of his being is a much better description of his overall feelings on the place. It’s cramped and crowded no matter what time of the day you go, and they don’t take appointments unless you’re pregnant, so for him it’s a matter of first come, first served. He had actually managed to get there nearly forty-five minutes before it opened and there was already a line down the side of the building. Going to the free clinic is also full of pitfalls – some plain annoying and some downright life threatening. Kurt had heard on the news that several times this year alone the clinic had a number of bomb threats – none of them real, thank goodness, but a fake bomb threat will stop business for most of the afternoon. On the average day, if the fates are against your need for last minute STD tests or contraception, protestors from the local Baptist church stop by to do their Christian duty by blocking the entrance with their chants of ‘Abortion is Murder’ and their lovely protest signs covered in colorfully grotesque pictures.

They’re not out there today, though. Thank goodness for small favors.

Kurt can be optimistic and take this as a sign that what he’s planning on doing isn’t actually as reckless and crazy as he thinks.

Besides the overcrowding and the Bible thumpers, the free clinic reminds Kurt way too much of high school, of TMI pamphlets and awkward conversations with his dad over toast. In reality, he can do with a few more awkward conversations with his dad. Kurt misses him – God, does Kurt miss him. He misses hanging around his dad’s shop after school, talking together about everything and nothing; he even misses getting his hands dirty every once in a while. His dad has always been home to him, and Kurt misses home. He doesn’t miss Lima, Ohio, in any way, shape, or form, but he misses his dad. More and more as he pretends to be a grown-up and picks his way through the world on his own, he realizes just how much he relied on his dad’s constant comforting presence. Though this situation in particular is probably not something he would discuss with him. Kurt remembers how his dad reacted when he first found Blaine asleep in Kurt’s bed, and on a night when they hadn’t even done anything for his dad to get pissed about.

Kurt’s mad dash to his neighborhood Planned Parenthood couldn’t be helped. His regular doctor didn’t have any open appointments for the next two weeks and Kurt has a deadline. It’s not that Kurt is desperate for sex (he tells himself as he waits in line behind a teenage girl who barely looks older than thirteen) though admittedly it would be nice to have sex with someone other than Blaine. No, Kurt is more curious than anything. He’s curious about what kind of man would proposition a stranger for sex without any strings attached. Correction, he’s curious why a handsome, sophisticated, obviously well-off man like Sebastian would watch Kurt vomit for 5 minutes, listen to the details of his pathetic love life, and then decide _this_ is the man he wants to have a ‘fuck buddy’ sort of relationship with.

Kurt grimaces. He still hates that term, but he’s failing at finding a better one.

And what was that remark about Kurt developing feelings for him? Yeah, the guy is hotter than necessary, but he shouldn’t flatter himself. Kurt is an adult, and he knows how to separate a casual relationship from his deeper, more complex feelings involving love and commitment. This is sex – just sex. That’s all he signed up for, and not because that’s what Sebastian said he wants, but because Kurt has a life of his own that, at the moment, has no room for romantic entanglements. He’s going to make something of himself - something worthwhile - and he needs the space to focus on himself and his goals. He can’t do that tethered to someone else.

Actually, this is a genius idea. A fabulous idea. Kurt cannot find a single fault in this plan whatsoever.

He repeats this to himself to keep his mind occupied as he waits in an aging, uncomfortable chair for over an hour. He repeats it as a distraction when a younger-than-him male nurse sticks a Q-tip with an end the size of a golf ball into his penis and then scolds him to hold still. He continues to repeat this as he leaves the clinic with a little less dignity but carrying a paper baggy full of updated TMI pamphlets and a complimentary variety pack of condoms – colored and ribbed. He repeats it while he rides three subways back to the offices at Vogue, when he blows past reception, and as he speed-walks down the hall, avoiding the questioning eyes and amused smirks that follow him all the way to his desk, wondering idly why he became so interesting all of a sudden. He isn’t _that_ late to work.

He knows why when he gets to his modified broom closet of an office and sees the enormous gaudy display of red and yellow roses bursting from a glass vase, waiting for him on his desk - another unglamorous display by Blaine Anderson.

Kurt sighs and groans and quells the urge to scream. He hems and he haws as he looks the flowers over, picking out the card and tossing it straight into the trash without reading it. Kurt would think that by now Blaine might pick different colors than yellow and red. He knows they’re meant to bring back memories of their long lost high school days, but really. At least he can move on to a different flower…like lilies, or daisies.

Or he can get the fuck out of Kurt’s life.

That works, too.

Kurt drops into his chair and glares murderously at the roses that occupy a good 40% of his usable desk space. Just their presence drains all of his energy. Normally he would keep them, mostly out of guilt, and work around them until they wilted and died…but not today. Today is about starting over, taking chances, living life for himself, stepping outside of his boundaries and experiencing something new.

He stands up forcefully and grabs the vase. He picks it up, deliberately not cradling it in his arms, but carrying it arm’s length between both hands like he’s strangling the poor thing. He rushes back down the hallway with the same nosy people watching him, and heads straight for the receptionist.

Emily Larter, receptionist extraordinaire - the beating heart of Vogue. She transfers calls, gets everyone’s coffee, remembers each employees’ birthdays, even the temps. She also happens to be six months pregnant, and her husband left her a few weeks ago for her ex-best friend. She worked hard to keep the information private, so of course, everyone knows. Emily looks down quickly to wipe her eyes the moment she sees Kurt approach, startled by the wild look in his vibrant blue eyes. Kurt steps up to her desk and sets the vase down gently. Emily looks at Kurt, then at the flowers, then back at Kurt.

“Emily, my darling, has anyone told you that you look fantastic today?” Kurt asks with a flirty wink. She looks at the flowers, beaming from ear to ear, pulling one flower down to her nose to give it a sniff.

“Not in the last few hours,” she says with a giggle.

“Well, you do,” Kurt says. “You look fantastic, and don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

Kurt drums his fingers quickly on the corner of the desk, blows her an impromptu kiss, and then takes off back for his own knothole of a workspace. In his wake, he hears a gaggle of women gather around Emily’s desk, tittering ridiculously and gossiping about something other than Emily’s loser ex-husband for the first time in days.

Carlos peeks his head out of his office as Kurt approaches.

“Classy, Hummel,” he says. “Very classy.”

“Thank you,” Kurt mouths, mocking a stunted bow.

Back in the semi-solitude of his office, Kurt sits in his chair, gazes over the expanse of his empty desk, and smiles. He leans back in his chair with a content sigh.

 Yup, today is going to be the start of a new Kurt Hummel.

After the buzz of his euphoria wears off, Kurt finds himself retreating back to square one.

Over the course of the next week, Kurt thinks of a thousand reasons not to go through with this arrangement with Sebastian. Being the highly methodical person he is, he writes some of them down in a pro/con list format and carries them with him so he can refer to them on the bus or the train, or at work, or at home, trying to convince himself that calling Sebastian up and putting an end to this before it starts is ultimately in his best interests.

But every time he picks up his phone, the one ‘pro’ on the list keeps coming back with a vengeance.

Kurt wants to. He _really_ wants to have sex with this man.

The confliction is there, but it doesn’t keep him from going back to the bar on Tuesday night.

Kurt’s doubts scratch and crawl uncomfortably beneath his skin while he sits at the bar waiting for Sebastian to arrive. Symptoms of stage fright, of all things, creep into his system. His throat burns, his stomach flips, and his entire body starts to sweat – not only in the usual places a human would expect to sweat, either. His scalp, his elbows, the curve right below his ass - all become clammy with perspiration.

 _This is wrong,_ he thinks, fidgeting with a small ball of peanuts – pulling it close, sifting through the shelled nuts, and then pushing it back away until the irate bartender swoops by and collects it with a scowl. _This is crazy and it’s wrong. This is never going to work. This is akin to prostitution. Who am I right now? Pretty Woman? I should listen to my instincts and call this off right now before it’s too late._

After all of his inner monologue is over, Kurt realizes humbly that it doesn’t matter what decision he makes anyway. Sebastian’s already twenty minutes late.

Kurt is convinced he’s not going to show.

 _He was probably never planning on showing,_ Kurt tells himself. _It was all a joke from the very beginning. The whole ‘overly attentive, sincere listener’ thing was all just an act. Men like that don’t exist anymore, not outside of love songs and romance novels._

Kurt’s eyes shift to the door with more and more frequency, and as every new person enters who is not Sebastian, Kurt feels bitter, and worst of all, played.

A shot of tequila starts to sound really good for drowning Kurt’s sorrows in, but the shard of optimism left in Kurt’s brain begs him to wait a little while longer.

After a half-an-hour late, Kurt decides to forego ordering a shot for the road and decides to leave with his head held high.

Kurt leaves a tip even though he didn’t really order anything, hoping to pacify the bartender for molesting his bowl of nuts. He had originally considered getting a drink when he first got there, but the positives of liquid courage usually end up turning into negatives later, so he had passed. Kurt pushes his way through the influx of new patrons and heads for the exit.

Sebastian catches him just as he opens the door. Kurt’s eyes fire when he sees him, but that fire fades in the face of those soothing green eyes and that sexy half-smile.

“Leaving so soon, gorgeous?”

Kurt’s jaw drops. He had counted Sebastian out completely, but here he is, and he still wants Kurt.

Kurt doesn’t know what to say.

He can start off with something like, “Do you know how to use a phone, asshole?” but then Kurt remembers that Kurt never gave Sebastian his number. How was he supposed to call?

In reality, Kurt could have called _him_.

Oops.

“Sorry I’m late,” Sebastian apologizes, taking Kurt’s hand and leading him out of the bar and away from the stream of foot traffic, “but I got tied up with work. I have a car waiting for us, but first…” Sebastian extends his arm toward Kurt, making an expectant motion with his hand. Kurt looks at the hand open in front of him, waiting, bewildered as to what Sebastian can possibly want. Sebastian waits a breath longer, then takes the initiative and reaches into his own jacket, into his inside front pocket, and pulls out a folded piece of paper.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours, princess,” he says, waving the folded paper in Kurt’s face.

Kurt suddenly remembers the doctor’s report. He blushes high on his cheekbones but bites his tongue. He reaches into his back pocket and grabs out his report.

Sebastian plucks Kurt’s report from his grasp and replaces it with his own.

Kurt opens up the folded paper, looking it over from top edge to bottom edge. He spots Sebastian’s name up top, alongside the name and address of a swanky celebrity doctor from uptown that Kurt had heard of before on Oprah. Other than those two things, he understands blessed little of what is written on the page in front of him. His eyes flick up to watch Sebastian skim his report, blushing deeper when he remembers that beside his own name on the page is the name and address of Planned Parenthood and not his regular doctor. Sebastian obviously knows the finer points of reading one of these things. His eyes fly over the words on the page, and then his gaze peers past the page to meet Kurt’s.

“Here,” he says, positioning himself behind Kurt and pointing to the columns and rows. “See all these parts marked ‘NEG’? That stands for ‘negative’.”

Kurt rolls his eyes at his own stupidity. In retrospect, it sounds kind of obvious. Kurt looks back down the page and all he sees is ‘NEG’ everywhere. Everything is negative...that is to say, Sebastian is disease free.

“Satisfied?” Sebastian asks, switching the reports back.

It seems so clinical, but it is necessary, and Kurt appreciates Sebastian being such a ‘safety boy’. The question hangs in the tense air between them, and Kurt doesn’t know what comes over him in that second. He smirks, shoving the report back into his pocket and leans closer to his soon-to-be-lover.

“Not yet, I’m not.”

Sebastian’s expression goes blank, but then he picks up Kurt’s innuendo, and his smile returns.

“Well then,” he says, taking Kurt’s elbow and leading him to a black town car parked at the curb with its motor running, “let’s get out of here and get this horse and pony show started, shall we?”


	3. Chapter 3

They don’t speak a word to each other on the car ride to Sebastian’s place. It’s not as if Sebastian is ignoring Kurt or purposefully being distant. Actually, the absolute opposite is true, and it stuns Kurt. The moment they sit in the back of the car, Sebastian pulls Kurt into his arms and holds him back-to-chest the whole ride, as if Sebastian needs Kurt close, as if he missed having him around…and they’d only spoken once. It takes Kurt’s breath away in a sense – to have this sexy man miss the idea of him so much.

The car ride in total lasts literally a whole five minutes, and Sebastian holds Kurt the whole way, burying his nose into Kurt’s hair and breathing him in deeply. Kurt settles into this unexpected behavior from the man who seemed so clear about his intentions before – sex with no other attachments.

Kurt didn’t factor cuddling into that equation. It seems too _personal_ for their purposes.

Before Kurt has a chance to be adequately impressed by the lavishly comfortable car he’s riding in, they are pulling up to the curb of Sebastian’s building. It reminds Kurt of a show that he once saw on the Discovery Channel about apex predators – how they live and eat and hunt, all within a ten mile radius so as to expend as little energy as possible. This is how Sebastian had found Kurt. Kurt was loitering within the boundaries of his territory.

Sebastian lets go of Kurt, but it feels to Kurt like he doesn’t want to. Sebastian’s hands linger over Kurt’s arms, his fingertips tracing lightly over Kurt’s skin.

Kurt has a particular fetish for hands. They tell so much about a person. Sebastian’s hands are warm, and his skin isn’t rough or calloused, but it isn’t smooth either. He obviously has never had to dig ditches or haul garbage for a living, but he’s not afraid of work. The last place Sebastian touches is the soft hollow of Kurt’s neck, and Kurt can feel every ridge of his fingertips leaving their invisible marks on his skin.

Sebastian opens the car door and helps Kurt out, ushering him quickly up the steps to his building – and didn’t Sebastian say he lived in a penthouse? Kurt looks up the sheer side of the tallest residential building he’s ever seen and gasps.

Kurt has a little problem with heights.

_Dear God Almighty….penthouses are at the top, right?_

“Are you alright?” Sebastian laughs into Kurt’s ear. Kurt sucks in a breath when he feels Sebastian’s warmth against his skin again, and now he can smell him – a scent of pepper and cinnamon with a tone of something else like Aspen. It reminds him of winter. It reminds him of snow. It reminds him of home. Not the physical home he left with the homophobic assholes throwing Slushies in his face, but the _feeling_ of home. The feeling of belonging.

“Yeah,” Kurt says, nodding too hard and too fast, “yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just never seen a building this tall without a gift store out front.”

“There’s actually a small sundry store inside the lobby,” Sebastian says, chuckling again when Kurt’s mouth drops open. He puts his hand to the small of Kurt’s back and places a kiss beneath his ear. There it is – that feeling of belonging. “It is a little showy,” Sebastian agrees, “but I promise you it has a fabulous view.”

Kurt’s knees go weak.

_Yup…they’re going to the top._

A man in a crisp blue uniform opens the door before they get to it, smiling at Sebastian and tipping his hat.

“Good evening, Mr. Smythe,” the man says, his eyes glancing over Kurt beneath Sebastian’s arm, his smile unfaltering.

“Good evening, Steven,” Sebastian says with a nod.

Sebastian doesn’t bother introducing Kurt, and Kurt has to try hard to keep from feeling offended. Why _should_ Sebastian introduce him? They aren’t dating. Who knows how long this arrangement will even last? Kurt might not be around long enough to see this man a second time. No reason to burden him with a little thing like, “By the way, this is Kurt Hummel.”

Okay, so maybe he’s a little hurt. He can’t help wonder how many different men this doorman has seen Sebastian walk in with under his arm.

They walk through the lobby with Sebastian’s arm snaked around Kurt’s waist. Sebastian nods and says hello to a few other people as they pass by, but Kurt doesn’t see their faces, focused on the elevator fast approaching, every step bringing them closer to what they’re about to do. They stop in front of the double-doors and Sebastian presses the call button.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asks, peeking at Kurt, his mouth pulling up slightly at the corner.

“Yeah,” Kurt says, trying to sound cool and calm, but something in his expression must have given his nervousness away because Sebastian laughs. “Yeah, I’m good. What makes you think I’m not?”

“Because you’re trembling,” Sebastian says in his subtly alluring voice, a voice that hits Kurt’s ears and then spirals throughout his body, hitting every nerve, triggering every erogenous zone, everywhere at once.

Kurt didn’t think he could cum off the sound of a man’s voice.

He was obviously wrong. Embarrassingly wrong.

He’s able to head off a deal breaking scenario by flooding his head with images of Margaret Thatcher, Sue Sylvester, and turkey loaf.

He hears the elevator doors slide open and changes his focus to the small metal box – correction, the roomy, plush carpeted, florally wallpapered and wood paneled box – that will take them to Sebastian’s place.

Kurt isn’t sure what to expect from Sebastian anymore, but he had half-expected Sebastian to be all over him the minute they got alone in the elevator. Kurt had pictured Sebastian as being into kinky sex, and had mentally prepared himself for being subjected to all sorts of exhibitionist acts. He was surprised that Sebastian hadn’t attempted to blow him in the car on the way over. Regardless of Sebastian’s behavior in the car, this arrangement of theirs is about sex Kurt keeps reminding himself. The doors close. Sebastian comes up closer and Kurt prepares to make a semi-public spectacle of himself.

Sebastian holds him. He leans against the wall of the elevator with Kurt in his arms and keeps him close to his body. He doesn’t try to kiss him or touch him or any of the other things that Kurt had been worried about doing in a public place. Sebastian rests his chin into the crook of Kurt’s neck, cuddling against him, and Kurt begins to wonder if this is actually as much about sex as Sebastian originally claimed it to be.

Maybe Sebastian is lonely. Like Kurt. In need of human contact.

Kurt had been partially right about Sebastian living in a penthouse – Sebastian doesn’t just live close to the top of the building…he lives _all_ the way at the top. Kurt watches the elevator lights bounce from number to number, stopping on the last one.

“So, you live on the way, way top?” Kurt asks when the doors slide open.

“Yeah,” Sebastian says. “I had to outbid some guy from Dubai for it, but it is totally worth it.”

“Ah,” Kurt says, not quite agreeing as Sebastian leads him out into the hallway and walks him to the only door on this level.

Kurt has a clear image in his head of what Sebastian’s penthouse will look like, a picture straight out of _Architectural Digest_ – minimally decorated with very few personal affects, and maybe a grand piano in the corner, just for show. (Kurt’s not sure why the piano, but isn’t that what wealthy people do?) Or maybe he’s hoping for it because it would be something they had in common, because outside of embarking on a free-sex arrangement, he can’t imagine anything they would have in common.

Sebastian stops at his front door and turns to Kurt.

“Do you still want to do this?” he asks, his seductive half-smirk still firmly in place, but something passing over his eyes that looks a little unsure.

Kurt nods again, careful to attenuate his anxiousness and enthusiasm.

“Of course,” he says, leaning casually against the wall in an attempt to appear as nonchalant about the whole situation as Sebastian does. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Sebastian raises his eyebrows, opening his mouth to comment, but then closes it again. He turns the key in his lock and pushes the door open, standing back to let Kurt inside.

Kurt feels his mouth start to drop open and shuts it immediately. He refuses to look like a gape-mouthed noob any longer.

Kurt was right about the piano, but it’s an upright, not a grand. The rest of the penthouse throws Kurt off-kilter, though that’s becoming par for the course so far. The penthouse is decorated much in the same way that Kurt would decorate this type of an open space – with hardwood floors and lots of comfortable seating areas for people to gather and talk. There’s a fireplace and a few pieces of art displayed here and there, but it’s not cold or impersonal at all - definitely not the picture of a swinging bachelor pad Kurt envisioned. There are bookcases in the corners, filled from floor to ceiling with books – and not collectible leather bound books bought to impress overnight guests, but well-loved paperbacks, the spines creased, the covers bent from being read multiple times. In front of the books sit the occasional knick-knack or figurine, and Kurt itches with curiosity to ask the story of each and every one. The walls are painted in neutral shades and covered in pictures – family, friends, pets, show choir.

“Oh my God!” Kurt exclaims unintentionally as he approaches a section of wall dedicated to pictures of Sebastian on stage, flanked by boys in blue and red blazers. “You were in a show choir?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, putting his keys on a hook and hanging up his coat. “In high school, and then again in college for a while.”

“So was I!” Kurt chirps, his nonchalant and sexy façade fading, along with his anxiety. Sebastian chuckles lightly as he takes Kurt’s jacket. “Too bad you’re not from Ohio. Maybe we competed against each other and didn’t know it.”

Sebastian leans forward and taps the frame of one of the photos Kurt had skimmed. Kurt follows the movement of his finger, reading a small gold plaque affixed to the frame.

“Dalton Academy,” Kurt reads, “Westerville…Ohio! No shit!”

Sebastian laughs again, taking Kurt by the shoulders and turning him away from the wall. Kurt sees Sebastian shake his head in amusement at his reaction, his cheeks darkening in color.

“Yup,” Sebastian says, “I’m an Ohio native. Now you know my secret.”

“Which one is that?” Kurt asks, caught up in the shift of Sebastian’s demeanor, the way he can go from a taste of school boy shy back to apex predator with a flash of his green eyes. “The one where you sing, the one where you’re from Ohio, or…” Kurt’s eyes flick toward one of the bookcases, his nose scrunching as his gaze falls on an incongruous keepsake in Sebastian’s collection, “the one where you collect Disney figures?” Sebastian looks up and smiles, but not at all ashamed by Kurt’s discovery.

“ _Those_ my sister gave me,” Sebastian whispers, closing in on Kurt’s lips, “and I guess all three.”

“But those aren’t all your secrets?” Kurt asks earnestly.

“Not at all,” Sebastian says, and that’s the end of that conversation, because Sebastian closes the distance and kisses Kurt. Sebastian doesn’t give Kurt time to think, time to breathe, time to get any more pleasantries out of the way before he kisses him, grabbing a hold of Kurt’s wrists and holding them above his head, trapping him against the wall. A man who is aggressive when he kisses is usually a huge turn-off to Kurt, but it’s almost as if Sebastian can read Kurt’s mind. He already knows exactly how Kurt likes to be kissed, as if one conversation and a single flick of those gorgeous green eyes was enough to unlock all of Kurt’s deepest desires.

Sebastian keeps kissing him, barely giving him a moment to breathe, keeping him dizzy, his whole body fuzzy to the sensation of falling through air, but he’s moving – sliding across the wall, walking backward, floating along at Sebastian’s command as those kisses keep coming, one after the other, slowly pulling him apart.

First goes his fear.

Then his self-control.

Finally his resolve, which bleeds off and swirls away like water down a drain.

He’s no longer a sentient human being, but a singular connected nerve, absorbing feeling and reacting to it.

Sebastian strips him quickly, carefully managing each piece of clothing, setting it aside without needing to break their contact. This has always been the awkward point for Kurt, removing his clothes or having his clothes removed, revealing his body to someone new. Of course, there’s only really been two ‘someone new’ – Blaine (who Kurt refuses to think about), and Adam (beautiful, sweet, amazing Adam, who might have been _the one_ if he hadn’t gone back to England).

Kurt comes up for a moment to take a breath when Sebastian’s lips move on to his neck and he realizes that his clothes are effectively gone, draped on a chair beside the king-size bed that the two of them are now on.

When did all of this happen? It’s kind of frightening that he can’t remember.     

Sebastian flips them over on the bed, positioning Kurt over his hips, and Kurt gets a better view of his current situation. He isn’t wearing a stitch of clothes, but Sebastian is still fully dressed. Kurt whimpers, suddenly self-conscious. He’s only recently come into his own as far as his body is concerned, and though he can appreciate his new muscles and lack of baby fat, his self-image has yet to improve. Sebastian stares at him – openly, unashamed. Kurt subconsciously raises an arm to wrap around his chest, but Sebastian reaches up and grabs Kurt’s arm, pulling it down.

“Don’t you dare,” Sebastian says, tugging him closer. “Don’t you dare cover your beautiful body. You have nothing to be ashamed of.” Sebastian smirks at Kurt’s conflicted expression. “Besides, it’s time to put that hand to better use.”

Sebastian releases Kurt’s arm and Kurt sits back. He looks at Sebastian, looks at the clothes covering his body.

“Undress me,” Sebastian says. It sounds like a command, and Kurt balks at commands, but pride aside, he can’t find a reason not to follow this one. He wants Sebastian naked, wants to see what’s hiding underneath all of those fashionable but straight-laced business clothes. Kurt came here to have this man, and now, sitting above him naked and exposed with Sebastian’s eyes raking over him, Kurt _needs_ to have him.

Kurt starts stripping off Sebastian’s clothes – not as quickly or with as much finesse as Sebastian took off his, but then Kurt hasn’t had that much practice. Buttons slip through their holes beneath Kurt’s trembling fingertips. He pulls too eagerly at the shirttails of Sebastian’s shirt and one becomes stuck. Kurt blushes when he fumbles with Sebastian’s belt buckle, and braces himself for the sound of Sebastian’s laughter – laughter that has probably been stifled this whole time - but Sebastian only smiles.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he says, raising a hand to run his fingers through Kurt’s hair. “I’m so glad you agreed to do this with me.”

The words hit Kurt right in the chest, dangerously close to his racing heart. Sebastian is trying to relax him – put him at ease. He doesn’t really have to; he’s not obligated to make Kurt feel better about himself, but he is anyway.

How the fuck is this man single?

Kurt takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, unzipping Sebastian’s pants and pulling them off his legs. He starts to fold them neatly but Sebastian grabs them out of his hands and tosses them to the side. Kurt watches them fly through the air and land on the ground in a heap. He gasps, incredulous at Sebastian’s mistreatment of his expensive clothes, and the choked sound makes Sebastian laugh – actually throw his head back and laugh. Kurt’s breathing hitches. Sebastian’s full-bodied laugh is almost as erotic as his low, sultry speaking voice.

Sebastian stares at the stricken look in Kurt’s eyes and does the same with his dress shirt, this time crumpling the material up in his hands for good measure before sending it flying through the air.

“How…” Kurt mutters, “how can you _do_ that?”

“They’re just clothes,” Sebastian laughs, yanking off his socks. “Getting the wrinkles out are what dry cleaners are for. Besides, I want you and you’re taking too damn long.” He lifts his hips up beneath Kurt’s ass and wiggles his eyebrows. “Do you mind?” It takes a moment and another wiggle of Sebastian’s eyebrows to remind Kurt that Sebastian still has his briefs on. Kurt puts his hands to the waist band, scolding himself when he realizes how quickly he’s divesting this man of his clothes. He wants to savor Sebastian – his taut, smooth skin, his glittering eyes, his devilish smiles, his…

Oh my God…

Kurt gets Sebastian’s briefs past his cock – his half-hard cock – and swallows.

Again, he has to reiterate, _how_ is this man single? What _exactly_ is wrong with him, and how heinous is it that someone could overlook his obvious assets?

“Okay, okay, okay,” he hears Sebastian chuckle, finishing the job for himself and then pulling Kurt into his lap, “you should consider taking a picture. Then you can stare all you want.”

Kurt feels a peculiar sense of brashness at Sebastian’s joke – a joke which has a hint of humility to it.

“Would you let me?” he asks, as serious as he is teasing.

The glimmer in Sebastian’s eyes lights his entire face.

“I _absolutely_ would,” he answers, holding Kurt in place with one hand to his hip and searching beneath the pillow under his head with the other hand. “Ah-a!” He pulls his hand out with something clutched in his fist. “Put this on me, darling.” Sebastian tosses a condom in Kurt’s direction, watching him catch it with a clap between his palms and chuckling softly when Kurt’s face glows crimson. Kurt holds the condom in his hands like a captured bug, staring at Sebastian with his mouth hanging open. “Don’t just sit there gaping. If you want to do this, you’re going to have to help me out.”

“So, we’re going to rush to the end?” Kurt asks, hiding his rush of embarrassment with mock disappointment.

“No,” Sebastian says, taking one of Kurt’s hands and bringing it to his mouth, “this is where we start. I want the chance to play with you for a while, but…” He kisses Kurt’s hand, then his knuckles one by one, traveling down each finger with his tongue. His eyes watch Kurt, always watching, feeding off his reaction. “I’m _dying_ to be inside you.”

Sebastian sucks Kurt’s middle finger into his mouth and Kurt moans. Sebastian smiles with his tongue circling Kurt’s finger, and Kurt is mesmerized. He can’t peel his gaze away from Sebastian’s face, from his lips - his mouth especially. But then there are his eyes – both devilishly keen and playfully sweet. Kurt didn’t know both qualities could exist harmoniously in the same space.

Kurt has never met a man like Sebastian.

Cocky and self-confident Sebastian, who knows who he is and knows what he wants, but most of all who knows the effect he has on men. Kurt imagines that men throw themselves at him wherever he goes. Hell, women probably throw themselves at him, too.

Blaine was always bashful in bed - blushing and innocent. It was sweet, and he was hot in his own way, but sometimes Kurt craved something different - something dirtier and raw.

Sebastian is blatant and unashamed of his sexuality. Maybe he has flaws – everybody does, though from Kurt’s angle, he isn’t seeing any – but he’s not shying away, he’s not drawing attention to them, he’s not making apologies.

Kurt tugs at the hand being ravaged by Sebastian’s mouth, but Sebastian is not willing to let go, rubbing circles on Kurt’s inner wrist with his thumb. He takes the hand from Kurt’s hip and grabs the edge of the condom wrapper.

“Hold tight,” he says around the digit in his mouth. Kurt’s fingers clamp at the edge he’s holding as Sebastian tears the packet open one-handed.

Kurt swallows _hard_. Jesus Christ, this man is slick.

Kurt manipulates the wrapper with his fingers, managing to squeeze the condom out. Sebastian wraps his lips around Kurt’s middle finger and gives one hard suck that shoots straight from his finger to his groin, setting everything in between ablaze. It’s a precursor of things to come, Kurt knows that, and so does his cock, which grows harder with every suck.

Kurt’s hand trembles as he tries to roll the condom on Sebastian’s erection, more so when Sebastian grabs the base and holds it upright for him, throwing him a wink as his mouth moves on to Kurt’s index finger. Thank God the condom is lubricated, Kurt thinks, taking three tries to roll it on sufficiently. At least he doesn’t have to suffer the humiliation of the thing getting stuck. Sebastian takes over, and as soon as he does, this game they’re playing changes. Sebastian sits up and flips them over again, putting Kurt on his back on the bed. Sebastian hovers over him, kissing, touching, fondling, caressing, until Kurt’s senses become completely overwhelmed by _touch_.

Sebastian doesn’t grope blindly, he doesn’t ask for permission – he simply _knows_. He knows where and how Kurt wants to be touched. Kurt doesn’t even comprehend it himself until Sebastian’s hand is already there, his fingers grazing and massaging, pulling moan after moan from Kurt’s throat without Kurt being able to stop them. Sebastian puts such care into every kiss, every touch, it’s simply rapturous.

Sebastian finds lube from _somewhere_ , Kurt doesn’t know where since Sebastian doesn’t move too far away, and coats his fingers. Using his new intimate knowledge of Kurt’s body, he feels his way down Kurt’s back, down his ass, and finds his entrance. With delicate strokes, he opens Kurt up, drawing out thrusts from careful fingers, moving in and out, scissoring, making a meal out of preparing him. Kurt has never really been one for being fingered. He’s done it himself, of course, but Blaine couldn’t seem to get the knack of it. And Adam - well, everything he did was pretty much spot on, but still, it takes a back seat to this. Because Sebastian isn’t just working Kurt open, prepping him for a goal, he’s seeking Kurt out, learning about him, discovering all the places that make Kurt keen, make him cry out, make him beg. Those places he touches over and over with gentle brushes, filling Kurt with anticipation. Kurt can cum from this alone, he knows he can, but then, without a pause, Sebastian removes his fingers and slips his cock inside. He doesn’t bring attention to the switch, he doesn’t turn it into a performance. He doesn’t need to. Sebastian reads the cues from Kurt’s body and enters him effortlessly.

Kurt notices the change. He notices it in a _big_ way, and suddenly Kurt regrets that he didn’t get the opportunity to put his mouth on Sebastian before he put the condom on. But everything Sebastian does seems to be for Kurt first, more for Kurt’s pleasure than anything else. He’s not pulling out all the stops. He’s giving Kurt only enough to satisfy his cravings, but also to make him want to come back for more.

Sebastian fills Kurt’s body, then he stops, taking a second to tuck them under the blankets. Sebastian doesn’t move while he explores Kurt’s body – hands running up and down Kurt’s chest, his abs, stopping to stroke his cock and then return up to his neck, to hold it gently while he kisses Kurt.

He kisses Kurt when he does start to move, adding this new sensation to the massaging of his chest, the licks over his nipples, and the nibbles around his collar bone. But as tender as Sebastian is, he’s also ruthless, in the best possible sense. He edges Kurt closer and closer, starting out senusual and building, and when Kurt thinks he’s about to cum, Sebastian backs away. It leaves Kurt frustrated and helpless, but Kurt doesn’t want it to stop.

“Ohmygod!” Kurt exclaims, teeth gritting, eyes squeezed shut, forehead and hair drenched in sweat at this fifth time when he was close, so close, his entire body tensing in preparation for the relief in sight. “What are you doing!? Why are you stopping?” Kurt tilts his head back, taking deep breaths to keep from screaming. “God, don’t stop! Oh my God!”

“Trust me,” Sebastian chuckles breathlessly. “Please.”

Kurt whimpers, but he nods. “Okay. I trust you. _Fuck_.”

Sebastian kisses him, relaxing into him, running his nails over Kurt’s scalp, giving him something to soothe the sting of his mounting, nearly-there orgasm. Sebastian moves again, and again he starts slowly, but instead of going with the flow, Kurt starts to writhe. It’s a sublime torture, but he’s at the end of his limits. He needs to cum or else he might burst out crying.

Kurt reaches the point when Sebastian usually backs off, except he doesn’t this time. He keeps going, faster and faster.

“Now?” Kurt whines, not because he wants it to end. God, no, he doesn’t want it to end, but because he doesn’t think his body can keep up any longer, and passing out during sex sounds humiliating and terribly unfulfilling.

Sebastian bends in close, runs the tip of his nose over Kurt’s, drops light kisses on his lips.

“Now,” Sebastian whispers, and like the tide rushing up the shore, consuming everything in its path, Sebastian pounds into Kurt’s body, taking the frustration of the past hour and turning it into a single driving impetus. Stars shoot behind Kurt’s eyes as the rush of fire engulfs him, as it sweeps him away. Kurt stops moving, stops breathing, and lets his body be, lets Sebastian take complete control. In all aspects of his life, Kurt needs control, and his other sexual partners were mostly happy to let him have it – after conversation, after negotiation. But Sebastian doesn’t discuss it. He has all the control, but he’s not taking. He’s giving. He’s giving Kurt pleasure. He’s giving Kurt completion. He’s giving Kurt a chance to escape, to unwind. He’s giving Kurt things that have been missing from his life, things Kurt didn’t know he was missing to begin with, things that even now he can’t exactly put his finger on. Maybe he will when he can think straight again.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God…” Kurt chants.

Sebastian grunts. It’s an amazing sound. It’s a sound of surrender. It fills Kurt with an unstoppable force, barreling through him from head to toe.

“Kurt, I’m gonna…I’m cumming…”

Kurt’s head falls back on the pillow, but Sebastian grabs hold of the back of Kurt’s head and presses their foreheads together.

“L-look at me,” Sebastian stammers, everything about him becoming a single shuddering mass. “D-don’t…don’t close your eyes…please…”

Kurt nods dumbly, his mouth dropped open, apparently an invitation because Sebastian kisses him again but with his eyes open, staring deep into Kurt’s eyes as he cums. His body shakes, not wanting to move any more, but he manages to anyway, until a dumbfounded Kurt follows, shooting up his chest, painting white streaks straight up to his neck.

“Oh God…” Kurt whispers, entirely unable to make any other words come out as Sebastian whispers, “Fuck…” against Kurt’s lips. Time seems to reverse, with Sebastian moving in and out slowly, lips kissing softly, bringing them back to the point where they started. Kurt’s heart stops its frantic racing, his body beginning to relax, the pounding of blood in his skull quieting to a dull roar.

Sebastian pulls out with a kiss to Kurt’s nose. He discreetly moves off to the side of the bed to deal with the condom while Kurt regains his faculties, trying to remember his last name, his address, and his phone number.

“So, what do you think?” Sebastian asks. He grabs a pillowcase off the pillow and wipes down Kurt’s chest, bunching it up when he’s done and tossing it somewhere across the room. Then he rolls onto his side and beckons Kurt to curl up beside him.

“I think…” Kurt laughs, out of breath, crawling to Sebastian’s side. “I think I’ve been well and thoroughly fucked.”

Kurt looks into Sebastian’s face, wide eyed, with a loopy smile, and Sebastian laughs.

“I think I’d have to agree,” he says, lifting a hand to brush a damp lock of hair off Kurt’s forehead. “Do you normally pray that much during sex, or…”

“I’m an atheist, actually,” Kurt admits, “so no, I usually don’t.”

Sebastian looks down at Kurt while he lies beside him, searching his face. Kurt searches back, nearly speechless by this man whose every action, every word brings up more questions than answers.

One in particular, which might not be appropriate but is less personal than the rest, leaps to mind.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Sebastian lies back on his pillow and grabs Kurt, rolling Kurt onto his chest. Sebastian looks up at him and raises an eyebrow.

“I guess that depends,” Sebastian says. “What’s the question?”

Kurt bites his lip. “How come you don’t have a boyfriend?”

Sebastian sighs and grins, then shakes his head, chuckling lightly.

“I take it you’ve been asked that before?” Kurt asks, his voice flat.

“Maybe once or twice,” Sebastian admits.

“Well…” Kurt waits. Maybe it is a common question for Sebastian, but Kurt still wants an answer.

“Because boyfriends are work. They have personal problems you’re expected to deal with - you drive them to the eye doctor when they get their eyes dilated, you listen to them bitch when they’ve had a bad day at work, you hold their hands when someone gets sick or dies.” Sebastian shrugs. “I prefer this. Always have.”

It sounds a little cold, but Kurt can definitely understand the appeal, especially for a businessman like Sebastian, working long hours in the city, always on the go, a lot of responsibilities vying for his time. Why add someone else’s baggage on top of that when all you really need is a quick fuck once in a while?

“Well, you’re definitely good at it,” Kurt says, dropping his gaze to Sebastian’s chest. The words echo back in his ears and he realizes how insulting his comment sounded. His eyes pop back up to Sebastian’s gaze, his face pale with horror. “Ohmygosh!” Kurt gasps. “I am _so_ sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

Kurt expects Sebastian to push him away, but Sebastian wraps his arms around Kurt’s torso and pulls him in closer.

“I guess I could be offended by that, but I’ve decided to take that as a compliment, considering you probably don’t have much in the way of blood left in your brain to be more tactful.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. Sebastian laughs. Kurt can feel it against his skin as Sebastian holds them chest-to-chest.

“I appreciate the consideration,” Kurt says. He chews on the inside of his cheek. Another question pops up – a kind of strangely intimate one. It could be far-reaching but he decides to give it a shot. The answer might give Kurt insight into Sebastian’s motivations at least. “Would you mind if I was tactless one more time?”

“Sure.” Sebastian folds an arm beneath his head, keeping one around Kurt’s waist. “Why not?”

“I was curious…” Kurt tilts his head. “Who do you think about?”

“Who do I think about?” Sebastian asks, sounding thoroughly perplexed.

“When you have sex with guys…”

“You mean, while I was having sex with you?” Sebastian clarifies matter-of-factly. “You think there’s some guy I’m holding a torch for that I imagined was here instead of you?” Kurt turns his head away, but Sebastian catches him, putting a hand to Kurt’s face and cupping his cheek. “I wasn’t thinking about anyone else,” he answers softly. “I was thinking about _you_.”

Kurt likes that answer, but it doesn’t seem to jibe. No, what doesn’t jibe is how this thing between them is supposed to be ‘just sex’ but in the short hours they’ve been together, it feels like more. Kurt is happy enough to abide by Sebastian’s rules, but he doesn’t like his heart played with.

“But…” Kurt starts to argues, but Sebastian cuts him off with an irritated sigh. Maybe other guys Sebastian has been with don’t ask questions, and if they do, maybe they accept his answers without argument. Charm and awesome sex might stay a lot of discussions before they start, but Kurt needs a bit more.

“Who else is here?” Sebastian asks, looking around them to get his point across.

Kurt’s face heats. He gets what Sebastian’s saying, but he’s not fond of being condescended to.

“I know, but…”

“Kurt,” Sebastian interrupts, leaning his head in to Kurt’s shoulder, “ _you’re_ here with me now, right?”

Kurt sighs. “Right.”

“And did we or did we not just have incredible sex?”

“Yes,” Kurt says, shifting his eyes away from the intensity of Sebastian’s piercing green stare, “but…”

“Kurt,” Sebastian interrupts, sounding hurt, “would you prefer I think about someone else while you and I have sex?”

“No,” Kurt says, “I just…”

“Then please, accept my answer as the truth.” Sebastian lifts his head up to kiss Kurt. “ _You’re_ here with me, _your_ gorgeous, naked body pressed against mine…how am I supposed to think about anyone else?”

Kurt smiles at Sebastian – a little goofy, a little awe-struck – happy to linger in this fog of cozy till he drifts to sleep, but the room around them starts to get cold. Kurt doesn’t feel it right away, but he sees a change in Sebastian’s eyes, one that looks amused in the way an adult might look at a child who’s overstepped their bounds.

“Well, I don’t mean to be rude,” Sebastian says, a corner of his mouth curling up into a smile, “but I _am_ French…”

Sebastian raises both eyebrows, staring at Kurt as if Kurt should know what he means.

When Kurt realizes what Sebastian is hinting at, his heart shrinks.

“Oh, yeah,” Kurt mutters, crawling out from under the blankets, “yeah, well, I’ve got to get going anyway. Don’t need to be on the subway too late, you know, with the rapists and murderers…”

Sebastian lies back with his arms crossed under his head and watches Kurt dress. It’s demeaning, and in Kurt’s mind it taints every moment that came before. He throws on his clothes quickly, working at not looking too flustered.

He turns his back to the bed while he does up his jeans in an effort to preserve what he can salvage of his dignity. He hears the springs on the bed creak and clenches his jaw, assuming that Sebastian got bored with watching him and is preparing to drift off to sleep.

Kurt reminds himself that he has no reason to be upset. He knew what this was.

Hands caressing his shoulders stop him, turn him around, and then soft lips capture his.

Like it or not, embarrassed or not, Kurt melts into Sebastian’s embrace.

“I had an amazing time, Kurt,” Sebastian whispers, the words lingering against his lips along with the kisses Sebastian places around his mouth. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

It’s not a question.

“Definitely,” Kurt says, unintentionally purring when he says it.

“Will you think of me?”

 _I’m not sure I can avoid it_ , Kurt thinks, his inner voice sounding bitter.

“Do you want me to?” Kurt asks, his voice resonating with touches of that inner bitterness. “I mean, aren’t you afraid of me falling in love with you?”

“Maybe,” Sebastian says, smiling. “But you seem to have a good head on your shoulders, so I’m not too worried. Besides…” Sebastian raises a hand to brush Kurt’s hair from his forehead, away from his eyes, “it might be nice to know that someone was thinking about me.”

Kurt wonders briefly if that’s a line that Sebastian has used before, because it’s a damn convincing one.

“Quite the fucking egotist, aren’t you?” Kurt teases, but it’s not cruel teasing. To be perfectly honest, he might be stalling.

“Please,” Sebastian pleads with his mouth against Kurt’s, breathing the word against his lips, sounding so genuinely sincere that Kurt can’t even consider refusing.

“I’ll think of you,” Kurt says, lips chasing Sebastian’s mouth as it hovers near his. “I promise I will.”

“Tonight?” Sebastian continues, raising a hand to the hollow of Kurt’s throat and circling the sensitive skin with his fingertips. “While you sleep?”

“Well, I won’t be able to if you don’t let me leave,” Kurt says, his heart beating in his throat so loudly he’s surprised the drumming doesn’t fill the room when he opens his mouth to speak.

Sebastian threads his fingers into Kurt’s hair and kisses him, kisses him like he doesn’t want to let him go, and the feeling of being wanted this way confuses Kurt.

If he’s going to continue this relationship (and as of this moment that would be a definite _yes_ ) he hopes someday he’ll understand Sebastian Smythe.

Sebastian sees Kurt to the door with another kiss – a chaste one on the forehead of all places, but it fills Kurt with more heat than anything else they’ve done that night. It sounds insane. He doesn’t understand it himself, but there it is regardless.

Sebastian doesn’t offer to walk Kurt down to the lobby, though Kurt might have declined if he had. He needs to get away – not because he didn’t enjoy himself. That’s part of the problem.

He enjoyed himself way too much.

Kurt walks down the sidewalk toward the subway, only vaguely aware of other people on the streets – a rather unsafe habit for a New Yorker, but his mind is far too preoccupied to care about something as trivial as getting mugged, because right now, in a lot less time than he’s proud to admit, he’s in real danger of losing something far more difficult to replace than his wallet.                                                    

 

 


End file.
